


Symptom

by mutuallyexclusive



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Compliant, Confessions, Denial of Feelings, Eventual Happy Ending, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Hanahaki Disease, Hospitalization, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Blood, POV Sakusa Kiyoomi, Pining, Pre-Relationship, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 02:28:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28931010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mutuallyexclusive/pseuds/mutuallyexclusive
Summary: Sakusa stared at the tiny yellow flower in his hand uncomprehendingly. The flower came out of his mouth just seconds ago, after he nearly coughed his lungs out in the middle of their shared washroom..(Sakusa has Hanahaki and it's all Atsumu's fault.)
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 5
Kudos: 138





	Symptom

Sakusa Kiyoomi never expected to fall for Miya Atsumu.

First of all, Sakusa wasn’t the type to catch feelings. It took him a long time before he admitted to himself that he was attracted to men, and even longer for any potential feelings to grow due to his general aversion to people. And even when he _did_ have a crush on someone, it was usually short-lived because the thought of dating in general was frankly, more trouble than it was worth.

Second, Atsumu wasn’t his type at all. The blond was loud, insufferable, and full of himself. He was the kind of person that constantly strived for attention, be it from his team, his friends, or even random strangers. He also liked to tease and joke around a lot, but with a subtle aggression beneath his words that often rubbed Sakusa the wrong way. In fact, Sakusa would even say that Atsumu was the kind of person he’d usually go out of his way to avoid interacting with. 

Usually.

When Sakusa found out that his assigned housemate was none other than Atsumu himself, he had expected their year-long coexistence to be one filled with much uncooperativeness and passive-aggressiveness. He had braced himself for the worse, so it came as a shock to him when Atsumu was anything but inconsiderate. All things considered, he’d say that Atsumu was a decent housemate. He was rarely home, kept to himself most of the time, and actually tried to uphold Sakusa’s admittedly high cleanliness standards. He was also reliable in a ‘I’ll get up in the middle of the night to kill the cockroach in your room even though we have to get up at 6 a.m. tomorrow’ way, which was a major plus in Sakusa’s book.

So maybe Atsumu wasn’t as horrible as he’d initially thought. As annoying as he was, he was also persistent in a way that made it impossible for Sakusa to ignore him. He liked to talk, but knew to keep quiet when Sakusa was too annoyed to listen. And he often made an effort to invite Sakusa to team outings, even though he’d say no most of the time.

When he really paid attention, it was obvious that Atsumu was actually a good person underneath it all. After spending time to get to know each other more, they got on quite well, too.

Even so, shouldn’t all that mean that they were on the road to becoming friends? _Just friends?_

Sakusa stared at the tiny yellow flower in his hand uncomprehendingly. The flower came out of his mouth just seconds ago, after he nearly coughed his lungs out in the middle of their shared washroom.

The fuck is this? Some weird fungus? It was the same shade of light blond on a certain annoying teammate of his, which made it clear who his ‘unrequited love’ was for.

No, his body got it all wrong. He must have caught a nasty strain of the flu, and this was just some disgusting yellow phlegm. Sakusa tried to wash it off of his hands in the sink, but to his horror, it wouldn’t dissolve and go down the drain. 

He flushed it down the toilet instead.

When Sakusa got out of the washroom, his apprehensiveness must have been blatantly displayed on his face, because ever polite Kita couldn’t help but comment on it.

“Sakusa-san, are you alright?” Kita asked in concern. He was sitting on _their_ couch, watching _their_ television, with _Atsumu’s arm_ wrapped around his shoulders. For a split second, all Sakusa wanted to do was to make him shut up and leave. And that in itself was terribly alarming because he was never one to resort to violence.

“I’m fine,” he bit out sullenly before making a beeline for his room. All that coughing earlier must have made him queasy because if he had to lay his eyes on the disgusting couple for one more second, he’d become sick.

“Hey, you promised to watch this with us, Omi-kun!”

He slammed the door shut.

Sakusa Kiyoomi never expected to fall for Miya Atsumu.

Because most of all, Sakusa never expected himself to be so _stupid_ to fall in love with someone who had just gotten back together with his ex-boyfriend of five years.

*

The thing with unrequited love, Sakusa realised, was that it never got easier with time. He just got better at dealing with it as the days went by.

Realising and accepting that he had somehow fallen for the troublesome setter hadn’t taken much time at all. In truth, he had probably been falling for a while and just couldn’t find an excuse to keep himself in denial anymore, not with a physical reminder that constantly nagged at him every single day.

Living with an invasive plant in his throat was a hindrance, to say the least. Despite being in the earlier stages of Hanahaki, the disease had spread to more than just his body; it had started to affect his daily life and work too.

Sometimes he’d find himself coughing when he tried to talk. The first time it happened, Atsumu had looked disturbed and insisted that he needed to go see a doctor.

“Maybe I’m coughing because your breath stinks, Miya. Stop talking.”

“Hah?” Atsumu scoffed. “Excuse you, but I’ve been using the Listerine you bought me. My breath smells like mint now!”

Atsumu opened his mouth wide and tried to get closer to Sakusa. Sakusa pushed him away in horror. “My god, stop that.”

“Heh, you just didn’t wanna admit that you’re full of shit. I’m telling you, you caught the flu.”

There were a few other times as well, but Sakusa had learned quickly to hide it. All he had to do was roll his eyes or shrug as a response to whatever was said to him whenever he felt that familiar itch crawling up his throat. Sure, it created some awkward situations but no one really realised that something was amiss. And Atsumu, the only person who could potentially notice that something wasn’t right, was too preoccupied to really pester Sakusa about it anyway.

After the first time he choked on his food, he started preparing his own meals and only ate alone if he could help it. Not that he ate out with others often; it just went from maybe once a week to none at all. It certainly gave him an excuse to reject Atsumu’s occasional invitations to lunch with his boyfriend, because for some god damn reason, he found it very important for Sakusa and Kita to get to know each other better.

“Fine,” Atsumu huffed. “Just don’t complain that I never hang out with you guys anymore.”

In the past, Atsumu would have continued pestering Sakusa until he agreed to whatever he wanted. But not anymore.

Sakusa could deal with talking less and eating alone. He could deal with gradually shutting out Atsumu from his life, bit by bit. As an introvert, he never really felt the need to be surrounded by people anyway. But sometimes, when he saw the empty seat in front of him where Atsumu used to sit as they ate their takeout together, it felt as if his chest was dug hollow.

Sakusa didn’t want to admit that he missed Atsumu. Because it didn’t seem like Atsumu missed him at all.

He didn’t know how much worse it was going to get, nor how much longer he could pretend that everything was fine. It could take years, or even decades before the disease turned fatal. It could even disappear all by itself if one were to fall out of love, which was what most people opted to wait for. Removing it via surgery was also an option, albeit costly with a long recovery period.

He wondered if Atsumu ever had Hanahaki. By the looks of it, his flower never bloomed because his love for Kita was never unrequited, even when they were broken up.

“What the hell’s wrong with you?” Atsumu confronted him after practice one day right after he stepped out of the shower. “You’ve been acting like a pissy little bitch lately. What gives?”

“ _You’re_ the pissy little bitch,” Sakusa sneered. Atsumu looked pissed, which pissed Sakusa off too because he was the reason that they were both in this mess. “Need I remind you that it’s your turn to vacuum the living room this week, which you obviously haven’t done?” 

Sakusa tried to sidestep him but Atsumu blocked him.

“You’ve been angry about that? Really?” the blond asked in disbelief. “Why didn’t you just tell me about it instead of giving me the silent treatment?”

“I did not give you the silent treatment,” he rolled his eyes. “Move out of the way, Miya. You’re blocking the way.”

Sakusa pushed past him and marched to his locker, intending to leave without Atsumu. He was losing his temper and needed to cool off alone.

But Atsumu was not having any of that. “Oi, answer me! And don’t think I hadn’t noticed everything else too—”

“And what,” Sakusa swirled around to face him, face dangerously close, “do you mean by ‘everything else’? It’s not like we have anything together. I don’t owe you shit.”

The flash of hurt across Atsumu’s face made Sakusa want to take it all back. But that wouldn’t make his words any less true, his feelings any less painful. Except for practice, he never saw Atsumu anymore. And after practice, Atsumu would go straight to Kita’s and sometimes even spend the night there.

Sakusa thought that time could corrode love. But no matter how many weeks had passed, no matter how much Sakusa tried to move on, it never got any easier. He thought he was getting better at dealing with it, and look how that turned out.

Maybe this outburst had been a long time coming. In a way, Sakusa was looking for Atsumu’s reassurance. He wanted Atsumu to pay attention to him again, to remind him that he hadn’t forgotten him.

But he was never good at making Atsumu do what he wanted.

And something once said, can never be taken back.

“You’re right. You don’t owe me shit,” Atsumu said slowly, his face darkening with disdain. It was a look Sakusa knew well, but never seen directed at him before. “But you owe it to this team not to play like an utter scrub. So get yourself together and stop being a pathetic loser.” With that, he turned around and left.

Sakusa gritted his teeth. It didn’t stop his eyes from burning, but it did help him calm down somewhat in the wake of hurricane Atsumu unleashed upon him. 

“Don’t mind him, Sakusa-san,” a hand gently found itself on his shoulder, jolting him out of his miserable thoughts. Sakusa didn’t have the energy to shrug it off. “Atsumu-san didn’t mean that. I think he was having a rough day too.”

“I don’t care about him,” Sakusa said. If Hinata heard the crack in his voice, he didn’t comment on it.

That night, Atsumu didn’t come back. Not the day after either. On Sunday night, he slipped into his room quietly and left early the next day.

Practice wasn't any better, if not worse. They tried not to let it affect their gameplay, but anyone with eyes could see the tension as thick as glass between them. Atsumu had stopped talking to him entirely, and Sakusa never realised how much he liked his stupid nickname until Atsumu stopped calling him that.

For the first time, Sakusa’s phone was silent and free of any messages.

It felt terribly lonely.

*

Maybe it was wishful thinking, but Sakusa liked to think that as much as he didn’t want to lose a friend in Atsumu, Atsumu didn’t want to lose him too. 

Because a week later, he found an umeboshi onigiri on their shared dining table. 

The next day, the box of fatty tuna he left in the fridge was gone.

And gradually, things got better between the both of them. Well, as much as it could for two people who never really cleared the air and pretended that everything was all fine and dandy.

Neither of them apologised. Sakusa never expected Atsumu to, because this was Sakusa’s fault to begin with. Sakusa had wanted to apologise, but he didn’t know how. One time he tried to approach Atsumu about it, but the words just got stuck in his mouth and Atsumu, taking pity on him, had just waved him off.

“Let’s just forget about it, okay?”

Maybe the blond was tired of the awkward and tense atmosphere in his own dorm. Maybe he wanted them to stop being pathetic scrubs in front of the team. Or maybe, what Sakusa said to him hadn’t bothered him that much and it wasn’t worth talking about it. Whatever it was, Sakusa didn’t care. Atsumu had offered him an olive branch and Sakusa took it greedily.

Weeks passed and practice became increasingly brutal as they geared up for the V. League championship. Sakusa had to forcefully extract some of the flowers from the back of his throat before practice every day so that they wouldn’t interfere with his breathing. To make up for his deteriorating stamina, Sakusa put his all into training and conditioning.

“Well, I’m beat. Let’s call it a day, yeah?”

“No,” Sakusa said, panting heavily. “I can go on.”

Sakusa cursed himself. He regretted being stubborn and thinking that he could just wait it out like everyone else, but it was too late now. At this point, all he could do was endure it because he couldn’t afford a month of bed rest after the surgery.

Atsumu raised an eyebrow. “Right. Sure you can.”

“Don’t force yourself, Omi-Omi! Having a good rest is just as important as training, you know?” Bokuto said cheerfully. It grated on Sakusa’s ears.

“It’s weird to see you so exhausted, though! Are you sleeping well these days?” Hinata sat down next to him and handed Sakusa his towel and water bottle. Sakusa took them gratefully.

The four of them were staying back for extra training. For the three others, it was nothing unusual. But for Sakusa, he was only there out of guilt and determination not to let his precarious condition affect the rest of the team.

“Yes,” he said simply. It was half a beat slower than usual but Sakusa hadn’t noticed his slip up amidst his exhaustion. Unbeknownst to him, the other three shared a knowing look.

“Well, even if you wanna continue, _I_ don’t,” Atsumu yawned loudly. “You know what I’m going to do instead? I’m going to go home, take a hot bath, and then I’m going to bed.”

Sakusa narrowed his eyes. “I’m taking the bath first.”

“I thought you wanted to continue?”

“I don’t care. The bathroom is mine.”

The walk back to the dormitory was a peaceful one. Atsumu, Bokuto and Hinata talked among themselves while Sakusa lagged behind them. The air was cool and crisp and Sakusa couldn’t help but take in a huge breath.

Air filled his chest readily, from his nose all the way to his lungs. He let it all out and repeated the process, in and out, in and out. The knot in his brow relaxed, and his head cleared.

Ah, he missed small joys like these.

Sakusa stared at Atsumu’s back, at the side of his face as he laughed freely at something Bokuto said, and felt a bittersweet melancholy settle in his heart.

“Omi-Omi!” Atsumu turned back towards him with a grin on his face. “What do you say? Do you think Bokkun should get a mohawk or a pompadour?”

Maybe it was the moonlight that painted Atsumu as something ethereal, something unattainable. Or maybe it was the fact that Atsumu looked so happy, so carefree, without him.

All of a sudden, he felt foolish for letting this go on as long as it did. As an athlete, his body was his livelihood. By holding on to the non-existent hope that Atsumu might one day love him back, Sakusa was essentially crippling himself.

There was a clear cut solution right before his eyes and he hadn’t wanted to take it. What was he waiting for? What was he scared of?

“Neither. He should just go bald.”

Bokuto squawked indignantly. Atsumu and Hinata burst into laughter. Sakusa felt a smile pulling at his lips under his mask.

That night, he made a decision.

After the season was over, the flowers had to go. And so did his feelings for Atsumu.

*

The Black Jackals won the V. League championship and took the title of champion from the Schweiden Adlers.

Within 24 hours, Sakusa was on the road back to Tokyo.

No one knew the true reason why Sakusa was spending his off-season break in Tokyo aside from Coach Foster and Meian. As far as anybody knew, he was taking a break from volleyball to spend some time with his ailing grandparents.

Three days later, Sakusa’s surgery was a success. Fortunately for him, the flowers were still contained in his throat area and had barely started to spread into his lungs, so it wasn’t too difficult to remove the roots from his system.

“This is baby’s breath,” his doctor told him and his mother after the surgery, holding up a tray with a bunch of tiny yellow flowers on it. “They’re an invasive species that usually grows in abundance. It’s a good thing you had them removed early.”

Sakusa snorted, finding it hilarious. “Yes, Miya was invasive all right.”

His mother gasped beside him. “Invasive? Are you saying that if we had caught it any later…?”

“Oh no. An invasive species means that they invade and take root in one’s lungs much quicker than any other species. But for baby’s breath, they have really shallow roots, you see, so your son wasn’t in too much danger. He’d feel weak and short of breath sometimes, but nothing serious until maybe a year or two when they have grown to cover more than half of his lungs.”

Quick and shallow. He supposed that it summed up his feelings for Atsumu.

“Do different species grow at different rates?”

“Yes, you could say that. Technically speaking, the type of flower that grows depends entirely on the type of person you are and the relationship you have with the object of your affections.”

After all, it was just a crush.

“Ew,” Sakusa grimaced. “Miya is loud and insufferable and full of himself. No thank you.”

“Yes, yes,” his mother agreed, hand delicately brushing away the curls stuck on his face. “And that’s why we had him removed from your heart.”

What was this woman talking about? “Stop being stupid. He was never in my heart. Asshole was in my lungs. Disgusting.”

His mother frowned. “How long does the anaesthesia last again?”

“Give it an hour or two. He’ll be back to normal in no time.”

“Make it ten minutes. I’m hungry,” Sakusa whined. He was finally back to normal after months of suffering. Did they really have to make him wait any longer? “We better go get spicy hotpot after this. Chilli is delicious.”

“We’ll get all the hotpot you want, dear.”

The days after the surgery weren’t very painful, to be honest. Mostly he just felt numb, as if his chest was dug hollow, and breathing didn’t come any easier at first. But at least he stopped tasting flowers at the back of his throat and didn’t have to worry about randomly choking on thin air anymore.

He spent the entire month home with his mother and grandparents. It was a new thing— living with his grandparents. They had moved to Tokyo to live with his mother after his father’s passing a year ago and had come to like the city so much that they might end up staying here for the long term. It certainly helped that all their children and grandchildren were living nearby, too.

“So I heard that the Jackals are starting up training again. Why are you still here?”

It was at one out of many family dinners that Komori had asked him this. Sakusa felt guilty for keeping the surgery from his cousin, but it had to be done. Komori was a bit of a blabbermouth, and he was good friends with Suna, who was dating Atsumu’s twin brother, Osamu. Sakusa wasn’t in the habit of keeping secrets from one of his oldest and closest friends— he never cared about what Komori went about telling others— but this time, it was crucial that nothing got back to Atsumu.

“I took an extended leave,” he said. “I’m heading back next week.”

“Oh.” A pause. “What for?”

Sakusa shrugged. “I just missed home.”

It was the truth. Being home again after several years was nice. It gave him peace of mind to be away from everything else, even just for a while. 

It gave him a chance to put himself back together and return anew.

*

A few days later, when Sakusa opened the door to his dorm, he was met with a ghastly sight that immediately caused his blood pressure to skyrocket.

“What the fuck is this?”

“Omi-Omi, you’re back early!” Atsumu’s shrill voice sounded from the living room. He was wrapped in a blanket as he sat in front of the television with numerous beer cans and takeout boxes lying on the table and scattered on the floor around him. On the couch was a pile of dirty laundry. At the corner near the kitchen sat the overflowing trashcan.

“Um, I can explain,” Atsumu said nervously as he emerged. His hair was messy, his face was unshaven and the bags under his eyes were more pronounced than ever. And he was shirtless too, with only a pair of boxers hanging on his waist.

But the worst of them all was the stench. Oh god, the stench. It was too much. 

Sakusa gagged and took a step back. “Stop. Don’t come any closer. Don’t even talk to me.” He slammed the door shut in Atsumu’s face and got the hell out of there.

His phone immediately started ringing.

“Wait, don’t go—”

“Listen carefully, Miya,” he interrupted. “I’m gonna come back in the evening. And when I do, the place better be spotless. Pristine. Shining. You hear me?”

“Yes—”

“Good. Now get working,” he hung up. Sakusa couldn’t believe he contracted Hanahaki for this slob. He was so glad he got the damn surgery.

A few hours later, the dorm was finally inhabitable again. Sakusa inspected every corner with Atsumu hovering behind him and chatting his ears off before deeming it adequate. After settling into his room, Sakusa took a much-needed shower to wash off all the trauma.

“You don’t have to be so dramatic about it, shesh,” Atsumu grumbled.

Anyway, Sakusa was glad to find out that the surgery had worked. His heart hadn’t raced when Atsumu smiled at him, and all he felt when Atsumu casually clapped his back was the same old instinctual urge to flinch.

Nothing had hurt at all.

“Well aren’t you in a good mood?” A teasing voice sang. “Aww, I knew you missed me.”

“I’m in a good mood because I’m getting the house all to myself soon.” To commemorate his newfound emotional and physical freedom, Sakusa decided to enjoy himself with a nice book for the night.

“Huh? The hell are you talking about? I ain’t moving out.”

Sakusa glanced at him. Atsumu looked dapper in his black shirt and skinny jeans, a far cry from his disgusting appearance earlier. “Aren’t you going out?”

“Yeah, but you’re coming with me.”

“No.”

“Come on, you have to eat dinner too. There’s this new teppanyaki place down the street. It’s good, it’s clean, and it’s Samu-approved!”

Sakusa thought of all the smoke and oil that’d get into his clothes and crinkled his nose. “Not interested. Go find someone else.”

Atsumu frowned, crossing his arms. “I’m not about to let you waste away at home like this on a Saturday night. I bet you didn’t even step one foot out of your house back in Tokyo either,” Atsumu marched right up to him and plucked the book out of Sakusa’s unsuspecting hands. “Come on, up! Let’s get out of here and get some sunlight in you!”

“Miya,” Sakusa growled in annoyance. “Just go. I’ll order takeout.”

“I’ll pay for you.”

“What?” Sakusa was stunned. Atsumu never offered to pay for anyone before. His eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Why can’t you go with anyone else?”

“Because everyone’s busy, duh!” Atsumu rolled his eyes as if Sakusa had asked a dumb question. “It’s _Saturday_.”

“So you just didn’t want to admit that you have no friends.”

“ _You_ are my friend, Omi-kun. That’s why I’m asking you.”

“I’m not too sure about that,” Sakusa scoffed. “Go ask your boyfriend. He’s definitely your friend.”

There was a beat of silence. And then— “We broke up. Like, two weeks ago? So no, he’s definitely not my friend anymore.”

“...What?”

“Nope, I ain’t telling you anything unless you get your lazy ass out of here!”

Sakusa was burning with curiosity. What did Atsumu mean when he said that he and Kita broke up? Why? Why did they break up again when the reason they got back together was because they were still in love with each other? It was only a couple of months, so why give up so soon?

No, he shouldn’t go. It was a bad idea. It was the worst idea in the history of bad ideas. His doctor had specifically warned him to stay away from Atsumu and yet here he was, about to go do something stupid again.

As if sensing his inner turmoil, Atsumu smirked. “It’s a long story, you know? And I’ll tell you _all_ about it.”

Sakusa looked at Atsumu. He had removed the cursed flowers. He wasn’t in love with Atsumu anymore. And he’d be damned if he let himself fall for him again. However, the questions in his head were going to plague him all day and night if he didn’t have them answered.

It was just dinner. Nothing was going to happen. He’d make sure of that.

“All right,” Sakusa sighed. “Let’s go.”

The restaurant was only a ten-minute walk away from their place. Of course, Atsumu was oblivious to the thoughts brewing in Sakusa’s head. He filled the silence with mindless chatter, asking things like “how’s the family?” and “do you think I’d look cool in that hat?” and “did you know I overtook Tobio-kun as best server last season?” They were typical Atsumu nonsense that required not much participation on Sakusa’s side other than a few sarcastic remarks or disbelieving scoffs, and the normalcy of it all at least gave him a little comfort.

When they reached the restaurant, there was a small queue, and a cursory glance into the restaurant showed that it was full of people. Thankfully, the line moved fast and within a few minutes, the waitress was leading them to a booth at the back.

“Figured there’d be less smoke here,” Atsumu said.

Sakusa watched the waitress clean the seats and the tables. When she was done, he took out a pack of wet wipes from his jacket pocket and wiped down his side of the table before settling into his seat.

“Give me one,” Atsumu said from across him with his hand extended out. “She missed a spot here.”

Sakusa wordlessly handed him the wet wipes. After conveying their orders to the waitress, he steeled himself.

“So,” he began, uncertain. “What happened between you and Kita?”

“It’s a long story.” Atsumu sighed dramatically.

Sakusa’s eyebrow twitched. “I’m listening.”

For all his nonchalance and flippancy regarding the matter, Atsumu seemed awfully reluctant to talk about it. “We broke up because we realised that we didn’t love each other anymore. That’s about it, really.”

“...That’s it?” Sakusa asked incredulously, feeling a sudden urge to throttle him.

“Yup!” Atsumu said cheerfully. “Okay, enough about me. Let's talk about you! What did you get up to in the last month, Omi-kun?”

Sakusa ignored the pitiful attempt at changing the topic. “Why did you even get back together with him in the first place?” he demanded.

“I dunno. He asked, I accepted,” Atsumu shrugged. “I was with him for almost five years. That’s a really long time. We were like family at that point, you know? So it was weird _not_ being with him, if you get what I mean.”

No, Sakusa did not get what he meant. “Isn’t that what it’s supposed to feel like after the honeymoon phase? Isn’t that a good thing?”

“Yeah, usually. But something must have gone wrong because we started putting less effort into seeing each other. We started talking less and less, and our relationship just… died, I guess. We tried to make it work but it was obvious that the spark wasn’t there anymore. We fell out of love. We fell out of love a long time ago and we were just too stubborn to accept it.” For a moment, Atsumu looked sad, wistful, before his expression was replaced with feigned indifference. “Whatever. I’m over him now.”

It felt daunting to Sakusa that one could just fall out of love like that. That years of devotion and adoration could just burn out one day, as if it hadn’t been there in the first place. That lovers could just drift apart and become total strangers once again.

(That any lingering feelings could be surgically removed, as if it was just another tumour.

After all, what was love, really, if not just a manifestation of the heart’s desire?)

The more he thought about it, the less he understood, and the more he was relieved that he was rid of that nonsense.

Their food arrived shortly and they both dug in, Atsumu with noticeably more gusto than Sakusa. When Atsumu coughed, Sakusa flinched and quickly handed him a glass of water.

“It’s nothing,” Atsumu waved him off even though Sakusa hadn’t said a word. “The meat just got stuck in my throat.”

“Maybe if you stopped eating like a pig, you wouldn’t choke on your food.”

“Who are you calling a pig, you pig?!”

Sakusa’s lips twitched into a smile. He missed this. It was nice having his friend back. 

Even so, there was a nagging thought at the back of his head. Some part of him couldn’t help but lament about the bad timing, couldn’t help but feel a little robbed. If he hadn’t been so hasty in throwing away his feelings, if he had just waited a month longer, would he have a chance now?

However, the thought disappeared as soon as it appeared, tucked deeply into the back of his mind. It was useless to mourn over lost opportunities now. If fate decided that it wasn’t meant to be, then so be it.

At least things would finally go back to normal between them now. Sakusa didn’t want something as fickle as feelings to get in the way of living his life anymore. 

*

The start of the new season was slow. With new teammates joining and old teammates leaving, the Jackals were busy adjusting to the new team roster. More specifically, it entailed a lot of physical conditioning and mentoring which weren’t very fun and often left Sakusa in a crabby mood at the end of the day.

In addition, things did not go back to normal between him and Atsumu. The change was subtle at first, but Sakusa noticed it anyway.

For starters, Atsumu was often home now, taking up most of their shared space with his sheer presence alone. He was loud, clingy, and didn’t take well to being ignored. At first, Sakusa often went along with his demands because most of the time, it was usually something innocuous, like grabbing dinner at the end of practice or cleaning up the apartment together on the weekends. 

But slowly, those harmless requests turned into going out for morning jogs, making trips to the grocery store, and even watching TV shows together before bed. Not only that, Atsumu also felt the need to tag along every time Sakusa had to run an errand, no matter how small it was. There was also this one time where the blond had tried to get him to hang out with his old friends from Inarizaki, to which Sakusa had firmly put his foot down.

This time, it was Sakusa’s turn to start avoiding Atsumu for the sake of his sanity. Too many times had he been tempted to snap at him to leave him alone, but he always held himself back.

Maybe Atsumu was just lonely now that he was single. Maybe Atsumu liked hanging out with his friends and Sakusa was the closest and most convenient option. Maybe Atsumu had always been like this, and it was just Sakusa’s current lack of affection for the blond that was making him feel this way.

Regardless, Sakusa needed to put a stop to this. He couldn’t keep avoiding him with stupid excuses forever; Atsumu might be hot-headed, but he wasn’t stupid. Sakusa would bet good money that Atsumu had noticed what was happening and chose to ignore it, thinking that he could bulldoze his way through like everything else. 

But Sakusa didn’t know how. He didn’t want to give up the comfort of his own home where Atsumu would often accost him, and he sure as hell didn’t want to tell the blond to stay away because he couldn’t risk catching feelings again.

Which was why when the end of their lease rolled around, Sakusa decided to move out.

“But why?!”

“I already told you. I just wanted my own space.”

“And you didn’t have that here? You— You even have your own room and everything! And I made sure everything was clean all the time!” Atsumu yelled. “Or is this your way of saying that I’m too annoying and you can’t stand being around me? You just up and leave without discussing it with me first?”

Sakusa swallowed as he put down the shirt in his hands into his luggage. “No, this has always been the plan from the start,” he said slowly. He didn’t turn around to look at Atsumu. He couldn’t. “Don’t take this personally. It has nothing to do with you.”

“Nothing to do with me my ass,” Atsumu spat, bitterness creeping into his voice. “You know, this is the one thing I really hate about you. If you have a problem with me— if you don’t even _like_ me— then you should just say it to my face instead of being a pathetic coward.”

With that said, Atsumu stormed out of Sakusa’s room, slamming the door shut with a loud bang. Sakusa gritted his teeth, slowly unclenching his fists as he released a shaky breath, wishing that everything that had left his own mouth was the truth.

But it wasn’t.

(How long was Atsumu going to keep affecting him like this?)

Atsumu was right— Sakusa _was_ a coward. Not only that, he was a liar, too. Especially when it came to Atsumu, even after recovering from Hanahaki.

How pathetic of him.

Atsumu didn’t start ignoring him this time, but the air was understandably cold between them. He kept his distance by acting as if that he hadn’t seen Sakusa whenever they crossed paths and only spoke to him whenever necessary. Sakusa knew the blond must be feeling betrayed, so he tried not to let his behaviour affect him too much— he shouldn’t, not when he didn’t have any feelings for him anymore— but it still hurt, nonetheless.

Sometimes, Sakusa wondered whether the surgery had worked at all. But it must have. His own body was proof enough.

However, just because Sakusa didn’t have feelings for Atsumu anymore didn’t mean that he stopped caring about him. Atsumu had been acting strange lately, and the signs were so small at first that Sakusa thought that he was the only one to notice.

He noticed when Atsumu started coming late to practice. Before, the setter was never late, always there practicing his serves on the court before Sakusa even arrived at the gym. Then he started declining Hinata and Bokuto’s invitations to hang out after practice, saying that he was too tired or busy. His loud laughs that often reverberated around the locker room gradually became fewer, too, as if he was refraining himself for some reason.

It was only after Meian pulled him aside during break one day to ask him about the blond that Sakusa realised that the rest of the team had noticed that something was wrong as well.

“I know what happens between you two off the court is none of our business, but do you know what’s going on with Miya? Did you two have a fight?”

Sakusa knew the question had come from a place of concern, but he couldn’t help the defensiveness that bled into his tone. “No, I don’t know. We don’t even live together anymore,” he said, avoiding the accusation.

Could Sakusa be the reason for this change in Atsumu? No, he couldn’t have. Sakusa was not so delusional as to think that he held such an important place in Atsumu’s heart. He wasn’t even sure whether the two of them were still friends anymore.

It must be something else that was bothering the blond.

Sakusa decided that it wasn’t his place to pry as long as Atsumu’s performance on the court wasn’t affected. It wasn’t any of his business, after all.

Except, it became his business when Atsumu fucking _collapsed_ in the middle of a game.

“Miya!” Sakusa yelled in surprise when the blond swayed and fell right in front of him. Without thinking, his arm shot out and he barely managed to catch him right before he hit his head on the floor. The whistle blew. Their teammates crowded around them in surprise and worry, but all Sakusa could focus on was the paleness in Atsumu’s face and the greyness around his mouth as he gasped shallow breaths.

“O-Omi…” Atsumu stuttered.

“Shut up. Shut up, you fool,” Sakusa berated as he held him in his arms, heart thundering in his ears. “Calm down. Breathe. Breathe with me.”

“I-I… I’m…” Atsumu had barely gotten the words out before he dissolved into a violent coughing fit, purple petals spilling from his lips.

Sakusa froze. He barely had time to react before someone pushed him aside. The medics were here.

Everyone gave them a wide berth as they worked on Atsumu. After some struggle, Sakusa finally let his teammates pull him away from the scene, still in shock of what just happened.

“Don’t worry, Sakusa. We called an ambulance,” Meian told him reassuringly.

Everything that unfolded afterward was a blur. Ten minutes later, the paramedics arrived and took Atsumu away. The game resumed shortly afterward, with one of the rookie setters replacing Atsumu and Barnes replacing Meian who accompanied him to the hospital. The Jackals lost two sets after this, losing them the game, but Sakusa couldn’t care less.

When Sakusa got home that night, he couldn’t relax until Meian updated them in the group chat that Atsumu was fine. The captain didn’t elaborate on what Atsumu’s illness was, but he didn’t need to. It was obvious enough what Atsumu was unfortunately afflicted with.

Hanahaki.

Sakusa scoffed to himself, turning to lay on his side on the bed. He of all people had no right to judge Atsumu for his stupid and reckless behaviour because he had done the exact same thing. So why was he feeling so perturbed? So annoyed?

Was it because they lost the game, and potentially any new sponsors that were watching them closely that afternoon? Was it because Sakusa himself was shaken after seeing someone nearly suffocate right in front of his eyes for the first time? Or was it because the incident had hit too close to home, had reminded him of his own foolishness that nearly brought him to the same fate?

Sakusa didn’t know the answer to that. He didn’t know the answers to a lot of things lately.

But one thing was certain— Atsumu was still in love with Kita.

*

Practice was a little quieter without the troublesome setter around, but it didn’t stay that way for long. Sakusa was surprised to see Atsumu back on the court after just a week of bed rest. The setter seemed fine— he was back to joking and goofing around as usual— but something about him felt oddly subdued, his presence just a little dimmer. Nevertheless, Sakusa was still glad to see him alive and kicking.

“How are you?” After some hesitance, Sakusa finally worked up the nerve to ask Atsumu this, settling right next to him on the floor as they did their morning stretches.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head over me, Omi-kun. I’m perfectly fine,” Atsumu said cheerily.

Sakusa scowled at that, feeling faintly embarrassed. He cleared his throat. “I take that you… still have it?”

Atsumu paused, sitting up straight. “Yeah,” he said guardedly.

“Ah,” Sakusa said, not knowing what to say in response. Truth be told, he was sorely tempted to tell him to just get rid of the cursed flowers, knowing first-hand how much of a hindrance it was especially in their line of work, but he had a feeling that it wouldn’t be received well so he simply settled for, “Take care of yourself. I heard that chicken soup is good for your throat.”

“Oh geez, not you too! Samu’s been on my case telling me to eat this and that all week!”

“He’s only worried for you.”

“Oh? Are you saying you’re worried for me too?” Atsumu smirked, leering at him slyly, expecting him to scowl and deny it.

So it came as a shock when Sakusa did the opposite. “Of course I am,” he agreed, scrunching his nose as if the question had personally offended him. “You nearly _died_.”

An indecipherable emotion came over Atsumu’s face. “Well, I didn’t,” he said slowly. “And yeah, of course I’ll take care of myself, so you don’t have to worry about me. Really.”

Sakusa pretended not to notice the slight rasp in his voice. “If you say so.”

For a while, things pretty much went back to normal. The frosty atmosphere lessened somewhat, but Sakusa could still feel the distance between them.

Atsumu went back to practice and took part in matches as usual, but he was careful about not pushing himself too far and stopped making too much of a fuss whenever Coach Foster subbed him out after one or two sets. Everyone was pretending as if nothing was wrong, politely averting their gazes whenever Atsumu coughed and hacked his lungs out, but it was only a matter of time before the higher-ups pressured him into doing something about his condition. The Jackals had no place for a liability, after all.

And Atsumu was a ticking time bomb.

*

Sakusa knew that the rate at which Hanahaki disease progressed was different for each person, but he never would have expected things to take a turn for the worse so soon for Atsumu.

As someone who valued his cleanliness above all else, Sakusa took great care in scrubbing the sweat and grime off his body after practice, often taking more time than the others in the showers. Thus, he was the only one left in the showers that day when he heard the dreadful sound of retching. Feeling sick with apprehension, he approached the furthermost stall slowly before he knocked on the door.

“Miya?” he called, wondering why the setter hadn’t gone home yet. “Are you okay in there?”

The heaving continued for a few more minutes before stopping, followed by the flush of the toilet. A moment later, Atsumu stepped out of the stall looking like death warmed over. “I’m fine. Why are you still here, Omi-kun?” he asked, voice hoarse.

Sakusa resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the blatant lie. “It sounded like someone was getting murdered in there—” his words came to a screeching halt when he noticed the dark splatters on Atsumu’s chin. “Miya,” he faltered, warning bells ringing in his head. “What’s that on your face?”

Atsumu wiped a hand on his cheek and stared at it uncomprehendingly, completely missing the mark. “What?”

Sakusa gaped at him, ice gripping his heart when he realised what it was.

“What are you looking at me like that for? Never seen a handsome man before?”

“B-Blood…”

Atsumu’s eyes widened, realisation dawning on him. He rushed to the sink to clean himself up.

Meanwhile, Sakusa was frozen in place. All he could do was stare. A myriad of emotions swirled heavily in his gut— concern, anxiety, trepidation, guilt— but the most prominent of all was fear.

Fear that the disease had turned fatal. Fear that Atsumu had ran out of time.

Sakusa immediately snapped into action. He marched towards Atsumu and wrapped a hand around his wrist, fully intending to drag him out. “We’re going to the hospital,” he declared.

Atsumu tried to shake his hand free to no avail. “Hey, calm down! I know how bad it looks but honestly, I feel fine—”

“You literally coughed up blood. That doesn’t look fine to me.”

“Yeah, but I’m taking my meds so we don’t have to—”

Sakusa turned around to look at Atsumu in the eyes, hoping to god that he would stop being stubborn and realise the gravity of the situation. “You could _die_ from this, Miya,” he said, voice trembling. “Please, just— take this seriously. _Please_.”

Stunned, Atsumu blinked at him stupidly before guilt overcame him and he looked down in shame. “Ah, right. Sure,” he said lowly, breaking the heavy silence between them. “Let’s go.”

The ride on the taxi was a quiet one, tension thick and coiling like a noose around Sakusa’s neck. When they reached the hospital, Atsumu only needed to utter one word, “Hanahaki”, before he was swiftly admitted to the emergency department.

Twenty minutes later, a doctor was finally available to look at him.

“Coughing up blood usually happens when the disease has spread to more than 70% of your lungs. At this stage, removing it by surgery is highly recommended.”

“I…” Atsumu trailed off, looking at Sakusa. What was he looking at him for? Wasn’t the choice obvious? “Can’t I just… you know, wait it out?”

“Are you an idiot?” Sakusa hissed.

“Shut up—” Atsumu dissolved into a coughing fit, spewing out more petals into the bucket next to him. A nurse handed him a cup of water and he drank it greedily. “— we have a match in a week.”

“Are you seriously thinking about playing in your current condition?”

“That’s precisely why I’m asking about my options here!”

The doctor cleared his throat. “There are some medications that could delay the effects for a while, but I can’t promise you a full week. An alternative is to simply confess to the object of your affections and let your body purge the entire plant out on its own if they return your feelings.”

“Will I still need to be hospitalised if I confessed… successfully?”

“Yes, but only for a few days in observation.”

Atsumu gulped. “And if I fail?”

“Then we’re back to square one,” the doctor said before writing something down on his clipboard. He stood to leave. “We’ll give you some time to come to a decision. If you need anything, please page a nurse.”

The thought of Atsumu confessing to Kita left a sour taste in Sakusa’s mouth. Clearly, there must have been a misunderstanding between the two ex-lovers. Maybe it was just a slump in the relationship that made Atsumu believe that they had no feelings for each other anymore. Or maybe Atsumu hadn’t been entirely truthful when he told Sakusa that the breakup was a mutual decision. Whatever it was, the solution was obvious.

“It’s either the surgery or you confess,” Sakusa said. “You should go for the surgery. Don’t worry about the practice match. You’ll recover and get to play again in a month or two, which leaves you plenty of time before the championships.”

Atsumu kept quiet, clearly torn. Sakusa could feel his own frustration mounting, but he forced himself to stay quiet. Atsumu needed to make his own decision.

“If I get the surgery, then I won’t love this person anymore, right?” he asked tentatively.

 _You still will_. The thought came to Sakusa with a jolt, but he didn’t say that. He couldn’t. It was a lie. It wasn’t true. “No, you won’t,” he agreed, words tasting like ash in his mouth.

“Then I… I don’t— I mean, the surgery would be my last option.”

“You lovesick fool,” Sakusa sighed. He couldn’t say he hadn’t expected that, but he thought…

“Hey, it’s not easy letting go of the person you love, you know?”

Sakusa understood. He honestly did. He understood this better than anyone else, and chose to let go because he didn’t have the luxury of indulging himself any further when his life was on the line. Why couldn’t Atsumu see the same for himself?

“But you clearly don’t have much time. Do you want to keep suffering like this until it’s too late? You need to think—”

Atsumu clutched at his head, messing up his hair. “Damn, you think I don’t know that? You think I _want_ to be like this?”

“Then what’s the problem?” Sakusa demanded. He swallowed, trying to reign himself in. He had to be calm. He had to be the rational one here. “I don’t think you have a choice here. Not if you want to live.”

Atsumu glanced at him before his eyes darted away quickly. “Well… I could just confess.”

Sakusa’s heart sank. Atsumu was right, of course. The best option would be to confess and hope that Kita reciprocated his feelings. Maybe the guy was experiencing the same thing too and he’d be more than happy to take Atsumu back. Then they could get back together and live happily ever after and forget all about this mess. It was the most rational course of action, so Sakusa didn’t understand why he was so disappointed at the idea.

“You still love Kita, don’t you?” Sakusa asked. He knew this from that start, didn’t he? He never had a chance in the first place. Not back then, and definitely not now.

Whatever Atsumu’s answer was, Sakusa didn’t care. He just needed to make sure and get some closure so he could finally move on with his life, like what he should have done ages ago.

(It hurt. But it shouldn’t hurt. Not anymore.)

“Huh? Wait, what?”

Sakusa frowned. “Don’t play dumb. It’s obvious you hadn’t ‘fell out of love’ with him. Just tell him you still love him and get back together already so we don’t have to deal with your dramatics anymore.”

Atsumu stared at him incredulously before he lowered his face into his palms and groaned. “Ughhh Omi-kun, I swear to god you can be so fucking stupid sometimes.”

“Excuse me?” Sakusa glared at him, but the blond was too busy moaning into his hands.

“I can’t believe you think I’m still in love with him…”

Sakusa gave him a condescending look. “Well, obviously. Look at yourself.”

“Well, this—” Atsumu gestured at himself, wincing a little when he pulled the IV line taped to the crook of his arm, “— ain’t because of him at all!”

“Then why the hell do you even have Hanahaki?”

“It’s because I like someone else, you dimwit!”

The revelation came as a surprise to Sakusa. He searched his mind for anyone that could fit the bill, but came up with nothing. The only person he could think of was Hinata, who was probably Atsumu’s closest friend on the team, but the ginger didn’t seem to be interested in relationships in general, much as Atsumu. “Alright, go confess to him then.”

Atsumu seemed taken aback at the suggestion. “You want me to confess?”

What was wrong with him? Did the disease spread to his brain? “No. _You_ said you wanted to,” Sakusa raised an eyebrow.

A faint blush rose to Atsumu’s cheeks. “Ah, well…” he trailed off uncertainly before a look of determination crossed his face. “Okay then.” A pause. And then—

“I like you, Omi-Omi.”

Sakusa stared at Atsumu. Atsumu stared back, resolutely refusing to break eye contact despite his mounting nervousness under Sakusa’s blank gaze.

The words echoed in Sakusa’s head, but he couldn’t make sense of them. It was as if his mind had crashed upon hearing the absurd claim, all coherent thoughts grinding to a halt. It couldn’t be true. It made no fucking sense.

Atsumu must be joking.

After what seemed like an eternity, Sakusa finally spoke. “That wasn’t funny.”

“It wasn’t meant to be funny! I’m serious here!”

Atsumu looked genuine enough, but Sakusa was still having a hard time wrapping his head around the idea of Atsumu having feelings for someone other than Kita, much less himself. He was scared, scared of letting himself fall and get burned again. For months, his body had suffered, beaten down again and again in punishment for his heart not getting what it wanted, and he’d be damned if he let himself go through that again.

And yet, a small treacherous part of him desperately wanted to believe it, holding onto the words like a lifeline, hope and joy catching fire to become a blazing inferno.

“Look, I know it might sound surprising to you, but I haven’t even thought about Kita for a long time now. _You’re_ the one that’s constantly on my mind these days, living rent-free like you own the damn place. Ugh, I honestly thought you knew. Damn it, this is so embarrassing…”

Atsumu was dead serious.

For a brief moment, Sakusa let himself indulge in the thought of Atsumu loving him back. What would it feel like to call Atsumu his? To have that brilliant smile be directed at him, for him, because of him? To hold his hand, fingers brushing softly over the uneven ridges of his knuckles? To feel his warmth during a cold, stormy night? To hold him gently and dry his tears and have him do the same in return?

To take a plunge and plummet blindly into his waiting arms?

_Oh, I never stopped loving you, did I?_

The realisation felt like a punch in the gut.

“Hey… Say something, will you?” Atsumu’s voice jolted him out of his thoughts.

“Do you mean it?” Sakusa asked with urgency. “This isn’t some stupid prank, is it?”

Atsumu frowned. “What kind of person do you take me for?”

“Then,” Sakusa swallowed the lump in his throat. “Your… Hanahaki. It’s because of me?”

The blond looked away sheepishly. “Yeah.”

Something soured in the pit of Sakusa’s stomach. Atsumu had contracted Hanahaki because of him. Atsumu had suffered because he was a coward who took the easy way out. If only Sakusa hadn’t gotten the surgery, if only he had been a little braver, a little more patient, a little more honest, then Atsumu wouldn’t be sitting on the hospital bed right now.

“I—” There were a hundred things he wanted to say to him, but this would have to be the first. “I’m sorry,” Sakusa whispered, heart heavy with guilt. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

“Huh? The hell are you talking about?” Atsumu scoffed, crossing his arms. “It has nothing to do with you. I was the stupid one who fell in love.”

“You’re not stupid.”

“Why? Do you like me back?” Atsumu attempted a smirk. Then a thought occurred to him, making him scowl and turn away. “On second thought, don’t answer that. I don’t wanna guilt trip you into saying you like me back just to cure me,” he muttered sullenly. “You probably don’t even _like_ men.”

“I do,” Sakusa said. Heat rushed to his face at the admittance. Atsumu was openly gaping at him, which spurred him on. There was no going back now. “And you’re not guilt tripping me.”

“What—”

“Because I like you too.”

And that was the truth, wasn’t it? Sakusa was a fool to think that his feelings were gone after the surgery, because how could a simple procedure erase something as intangible and indefinite as love?

If love was a manifestation of the heart’s desire, then the flowers in his lungs were just a physical manifestation of his love. Removing them was just akin to treating the symptoms of his disease and not the cause of it. All it did was put a band-aid onto his weeping soul and convince his head of something his heart had always known to be a lie.

It was Atsumu’s turn to be stunned speechless, opening and closing his mouth in utter shock. “Really? You mean that? You really mean that?”

“Yes,” Sakusa whispered. “I’ve always liked you.”

(Because once he got started on something, he’d see it through to the bitter end.)

Slowly, hesitantly, a brilliant, _brilliant_ smile unfurls across Atsumu’s face. “Omi,” he breathed. “Can I kiss you?”

Sakusa barely had enough time to think, barely had enough time to nod before Atsumu was leaning in, closing the distance between them. A hand found its way to his shoulder and the other to his face, fingers brushing gently against his cheek as they fumbled with the elastic on his mask. Then, soft lips were pressing against his own and suddenly, it felt as if his whole body was set alight.

The kiss lasted for a second, chaste and sweet, before Atsumu pulled away, looking flustered beyond belief. Not like Sakusa himself was any better— he felt as if his heart was going to explode.

“You taste like vomit,” Sakusa blurted stupidly. There was a faint urge to gag, but it was overshadowed by the overwhelming need to do it all over again.

“The hell? Way to ruin the mood!” Atsumu spluttered indignantly, wiping his lips with the back of his hand furiously. “That was so unromantic!”

“Shut up,” Sakusa ordered before he leaned in and kissed him again.

*

“Oh my god. A germaphobe and a nasty piece of trash. You guys are perfect for each other.”

“Shut your trap, shitty Samu! You ain’t any better!” Atsumu snarled into the speaker before ending the call, surprising lively for someone who was coughing his lungs out for hours on end just the night before.

To Atsumu’s eternal mortification, his body had immediately started the process of purging the plant out after the confession, nearly spitting petals onto Sakusa’s face if not for his fast reflexes. If Sakusa wasn’t resigned to his fate as Atsumu’s handler for the foreseeable future, he was sure he would have killed him right then and there.

“You shouldn’t shout, you idiot,” Sakusa admonished. Seriously, was Atsumu’s lungs made of steel?

“Okay,” Atsumu agreed immediately, squeezing their hooked pinkies. He had wanted to hold his hand at first, but Sakusa wasn’t sure if he was ready for that so this would have to do.

Sakusa looked away, still unused to the open display of affection. Sure, Atsumu had always been open with his emotions, but never to this extent.

It felt surreal, like a dream come true.

He cleared his throat. “You should take a few days off after you get discharged just to be safe.”

“Okay.”

“And sit out the match on Friday,” Sakusa added. “Just to be safe.”

“Whatever you say, Omi-Omi,” Atsumu said, beaming at him. “Hey, does this mean we’re boyfriends now?”

Atsumu wanted to be boyfriends. Atsumu wanted to be _Sakusa’s_ boyfriend; he wanted to be with _him_ , he wanted to stay with _him_. Sakusa knew it won’t be perfect. He knew they still had a lot to talk about, a lot to work on for this to last. But god, if this was a dream, then Sakusa never wanted to wake up.

“Of course we are.”

Sakusa Kiyoomi never expected to fall for Miya Atsumu.

And this time, he swears that he will never let go.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was originally meant to be angst heavy, but I can't write angst for the life of me so we ended up with this instead. Welp.  
> Please feel free to point out any errors you find or simply let me know what you think :D Thank you for reading!


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